


make like champagne and /pop off/

by VITRI0L



Series: baby blue ghostbur [3]
Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: /roleplay, Angst with a Happy Ending, Child Abandonment, Child Neglect, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hopeful Ending, Hurt No Comfort, Magic, Necromancy, No beta we die like l’manburg, Oneshot, Protective Wilbur Soot, Resurrection, They/Them Pronouns for Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, smp!phil c’mon man, wilbur gets resurrected and has some choice words for philza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:42:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28702347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VITRI0L/pseuds/VITRI0L
Summary: Wilbur is brought back from the dead, and much to Philza’s surprise and disappointment, he’s not as grateful as the blond would have expected.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: baby blue ghostbur [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2104224
Comments: 38
Kudos: 638





	make like champagne and /pop off/

**Author's Note:**

> oh boy, here we go
> 
> i couldn’t think of a good title so here we are

The totem made a loud whoosh as Phil drove his sword through Ghostbur’s chest once more. A brilliant golden light overtook the ghost transparent form, illuminating it with magic. 

~~It covered the dull and pained glaze over those brown eyes.~~

Phil yanked his sword back, quickly re-sheathing it in the hilt that the winged man wore around his waist. Green sparks erupted from the now golden figure, and with a brilliant fanfare, there’s is a loud boom.

Eret and Ranboo are standing behind Phil, eyes wide as the remmenants of the necromancy magic faded away. 

Suddenly, the light is gone.

A very solid Ghostbur is now standing on the podium, head down with a hand pressed furiously to his temple. The brunet man, still in dark pants, a yellow sweater and a marron beanie, took a staggering step forward and off the lapis lazuli. 

“Wil...” the blond man asked, weary of his son.

The taller took a shaky breath.

“Why...?”

Phil can feel the two behind him stiffen and he himself can’t help but feel disappointment flow through him. He frowned and crossed his arms across his body, ready to say something...

Wilbur looked up and it took everything in the older man’s power not to cower. Those brown eyes were furious, hardened and blazing with a destructive anger. Phil had never seen that look on his son before...

~~Tommy had, the young teen had seen that hate before, he’d dealt with it as it lashed out at him in that ravine but he’d always done his best to placate the brother he looked up to so dearly—~~

...and frankly, it frightened him. 

“What do you mean ‘why?’” Phil replied cooly, unwilling to let his son see his emotions.

Wil’s lips twisted into a painful scowl and the 6’5 (196cm) brunet finally managed to stumble to full height. He was imposing and dangerously so, the fury behind his facial features making him all the more unnerving.

“I mean who asked you to do this?” the man gestured to his now human form ( ~~littered with scars once again~~ ), “Because I sure as hell didn’t ask for this.”

“Yeah, you did, Wil,” Phil told him, getting rather fed up with his son’s ungrateful attitude, “You _literally_ said you wanted to die, to come back.”

Wilbur scoffed loudly, the harsh noise bouncing off all the broken stone around the company. Phil felt his patience being tested ( ~~something that only Wilbur and Tommy had the capability of doing~~ ), but he struggled to remain calm.

“ _That_ , that was Ghostbur, not me,” the brunet replied, condescension dripping from his words like poison, “If I remember correctly, _Phil_ , I asked you to kill me!”

He practically screamed the last two words and Phil felt his patience wear completely through. All the emotions he’s kept back, for Wilbur’s sake, snapped like a old rubber band and anger ran through his system.

“Well, what was I supposed to do, huh?” 

The sentence was said much louder than Phil intended, startling both the weary king and the anxious hybrid. Phil couldn’t find it in him to care right then, as Wil was getting on his last nerves.

The brunet didn’t even look surprised when Phil yelled. Instead, the bastard looked like he expected it. His smile twisted up, all teeth and his brown eyes full with a bright, prideful emotion. 

Like he’d won something.

“Well... maybe you could have respected my wishes for once, Phil!” Wil began, voice eerily calm, “I wanted to stay dead because I knew— **I knew!** — that I wasn’t wanted here. And, by the fact that neither, Fundy, Tommy or even Tubbo are here... I was right.”

“Fundy was here, once,” Ranboo said carefully, heterochromatic eyes locked on the man who’d brought L’Manburg to its destruction for the first time.

Wild brown eyes locked onto those red and green ones, desperately searching. Phil gritted his teeth, silently cursing the hybrid that he’d took in after the war. 

“When... what, have you tried this before?”

Wilbur sounded incredulous.

Phil hated it.

Ranboo, the ever shy and sweet kid that he was, couldn’t find his voice, not with all of Wilbur’s crazed attention on him.

Eret decided to pipe up for the younger.

“We have. Two times.”

Plain and simple.

Wil broke into a loud laughter then. Phil frowned at how unhinged he sounded, and how grating the obnoxious noise was in his ears. 

“H—how... how COULD YOU?!” 

The laughter is gone and his son’s attention was back on him. 

It’s Phil’s turn to scoff.

“I just told you, you asked us to bring you back,” he said plainly, “Besides, Tommy wanted to see you again—“

“LAIR!”

Wilbur was now stand right in front of him and towering over the blond man. He doesn’t look just deranged anymore, there was something else mixed into the emotion behind those depths. Not that Phil could find it in him to figure out what it was.

~~A blond teen walked on eggshells around a towering brunet, careful not to upset him, always reading his emotions as they stayed hidden from the sun...~~

“Tommy... don’t you _dare_ bring him into this, Phil,” Wil said, dangerously quiet, “You don’t know what Tommy wants, how could you when you were never there for him.”

“What are you talking about, he’s my son, of course I-“

Wilbur reached up and shoved the elder.

Hard.

Phil stumbled backwards, careful not to slip off the first step. Ranboo’s hands fly up for a brief second, just in case the blond didn’t catch his fall. They fall back to his sides when Phil rounded back on his middle son.

~~A quiet kid, obsessed with music and writing, yet as obnoxious and annoying as their youngest son.~~

“YOU ARE NOT HIS FATHER!”

The words echo throughout the entire broken down room, being carried far by the whispering wind. 

“I am more of a father figure to Tommy than you will ever be! _I_ was there for him throughout his childhood, _I_ protected him, fed him, kept him healthy... I **raised** him! You were always too busy out with your buddy, Techno, to ever give a _shit_ about Tommy!” Wilbur took a shaky breath, screwing his eyes shut for a brief moment. “And even I failed him... hurt him when I fell apart— and I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

“But, I will never, ever, fucking forgive you for the shitty father you were to Tommy,” the brunet said, cold steel in his voice, “I could give less of a fuck about how you neglected me, but my priority is Tommy.”

“You are _not_ his father.”

The words struck Phil right between his ribs, in a spot so close to his heart. Like a rattlesnake bite, Wilbur’s speech cut through his skin and leaked poisonous venom into his veins. 

“Wilbur—“

“Dont you Wilbur me!” the man began, pointing an accusatory finger at the blond, “You don’t get a say in this! Not after you _sided with Tommy’s **literal abuser**_ to blown up a country that he loved so much! You. Don’t. Deserve. Him.”

And he couldn’t take it anymore.

Phil raised his open palm high into the air.

Poised to strike.

Wilbur stared him down, challenging the man who barely raised them to do it, to finally give enough of a crap to react in anyway to the words of his middle son.

He swung.

A hand grabbed his wrist harshly, abruptly stopping the hand in mid air.

Eret stood between the two, arm holding Phil’s up. Their red and white furred cloak swayed in the cold breeze and their gaze felt cold from behind those black sunglasses.

“Enough,” they told the blond.

Wilbur looked vaguely surprised at the king’s interference, but nonetheless, he was smiling gently at Phil.

_Fucking prick._

Phil pulled his hand from the man’s grip, rubbing the skin lightly with his other hand as if Eret had actually hurt him in some way. Said person turned around, looked directly at an oddly satisfied Wil.

All the anger had drained from the brunet’s eyes, and his lips had fallen to a more natural smile. 

“C’mon, man,” Eret told him, “Don’t... how about we leave, yeah?”

Wil gave the ex traitor a soft nod.

“Let’s,” he replied, “I think I’d very much like to see Tommy again, now that I am here.”

The tall king returned the older’s nod and they held their hand out, directed to the large entrance to the cave monument.

“After you.”

And they both leave quietly.

Wilbur won’t look at Phil.

The blond watched them go.

His faintly angry blue eyes found the gaze of a rather lovely kid, who he had prioritized over his own sons.

“I’m not involved in this, Phil,” Ranboo said rather sternly.

Philza Minecraft sighed.

_What a fucking weird day, god,_ he thought wearily. 

•••

A gentle knocking.

“Who is it?” Tommy asked through the door, sounding as annoyed as ever.

He still opened the door.

“Hey, Tommy—“

Wilbur doesn’t get to finish his remorseful sentence because the teen threw himself and his thin frame right into the brunet’s. 

The sudden weight threw the older off guard. They tumbled ungracefully onto the wooden path below, and the blond teen wrapped his brother in a bone crushing and rib bruising embrace.

“Wilby... you’re back...”

“Yeah, I’m here, Toms. Right here.”

With a gentle smile on their face and tears welling their misty white eyes, Eret left the two to each other’s company.

Together.

At last.

**Author's Note:**

> i wanna know what you guys think of smp!phil cus i like reading and responding to comments :D
> 
> i hope you are well <3
> 
> have a good evening!


End file.
